


Thing's He's Okay With

by ModernJesus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gay, HS AU, High School AU, Hope you enjoy, Like, M/M, ahah, and idk its not as bad as i was expecting it to be, and louis' just nice, and yeah, and zayn's a prick, bullied!niall, but anyway, but doesn't want to be, by the way, harrys ok i guess, here you go, if you're wondering, im uploading heaps of stuff from my old stash, just so i can delete it off my laptop is all, larry au, niall's like, okay, omfg, so are his friends, theres, this was my first chapter fic i wrote, ziall au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernJesus/pseuds/ModernJesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall Horan didn't have friends, and he was okay with that. <br/>Niall Horan was quiet and shy, and he was okay with that too. <br/>Niall Horan was avoided by almost everyone, and once again, he was okay with that. <br/>But Niall Horan was in love with the heartless, drug-addicted and most popular kid in school Zayn Malik, but he wasn't okay with that. </p><p>A high school AU about the struggles of teenage life, friendship, and the surprises of people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction: Another Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziall shippers cause you's are underestimated in the power of fics](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ziall+shippers+cause+you%27s+are+underestimated+in+the+power+of+fics).



> This was written like 10 months ago - go easy on it. There's probably carrot references idk.

Niall Horan wasn't openly gay, but he wasn't a closeted gay either because, well, he wasn't gay - surely not - so the way his eyes danced across the leather-clad boy as he entered the lunch hall was not because of attraction, but just plain curiosity. There was no way Niall Horan let _him_ of people grasp his attention and make him lose all other concentration and have absolutely no control over his senses - so it came as a surprise when he was wacked over the head by a curly-haired boy with green eyes who was telling him to "stop eyeing up what you can't have, faggot," before he was sauntering past with the rest of his crowd, to sit beside none other than the bad-boy himself. The thing though, was that this was a daily routine, and Niall knew.

Niall knew what this was and he knew why it was happening - he just didn't know how to be okay with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few hours earlier

**_A few hours earlier_ **

****

The sky was a dark grey as he stepped out of his car, and onto the concrete. Locking it, he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed towards the building entrance.

To Niall, high school wasn’t a place he enjoy all that much. With the cliques and groups, gossiping and rumours, and most of all, the unnecessary amount of bullying. He had always been a victim of high-school bullying, but unlike a lot of people, he knew exactly why. Niall was an observer. He preferred to watch then to get involved. He could tell you at least one major thing about someone in the school by watching them for a short amount of time. To some people, they’d find it creepy, but for Niall, it was a gift he treasured and looked at it as his greatest quality.

Niall walked past the bustling groups, trying to slip past unseen by the familiar faces that tormented him on a daily basis, and he sighed with relief when they didn’t comment on his appearance again. Niall was in-trend when it came to his clothing choices, it’s just people made fun of it because he – apparently – thought it was his only way of fitting in. Perhaps that was true in their eyes, but Niall didn’t want to fit it, because everyone at this school he believed was rat bags and asshole and didn’t give a crap about their life or anyone else’s.

He headed to his first class, getting there early as usual. He took his place at his usual desk at the middle row by the window, and took out his pens and books. While Niall waited for the bell, Zayn and his crew were heading to first hour English, which he personally loved and succeeded in, but his friends didn’t need to know that. When he walked into the classroom, he caught the eyes of the blonde boy he knew very little of, but at the same time, he knew the world about him.

 

By Lunch, Niall had managed to slip past any form of bullying, which made his day cheerier and happier than he had first initially thought. Sitting down at his table with his lunch tray, he lowered his eyes from the crowd, making sure not to annoy anyone or disturb anyone’s privacy.

Niall wasn’t openly gay, he wasn’t a closeted gay either because, well, he wasn’t gay – surely not – so the way his eyes danced across the leather-clad boy as he entered the lunch hall was not because of attraction, it was just out of plain curiosity. There was no way Niall let him of all people grasp his attention and make him lose all other concentration and have no control over his senses – so it came as a surprise when he was wacked over the side of the head by a curly-haired boy with green eyes who was telling him to “stop eyeing what you can’t have, faggot,” before he sauntered past with the rest of his crowd and sat down beside none other than the bad-boy himself.

The thing is though, was that this was a daily routine and Niall knew. Niall knew what this was, and he knew why it was happening – he just didn’t know how to be okay with it.

 

Niall was walking to last hour when he heard the snickering, and his body froze. Rounding the corner, his eyes squeezed shut when he collided with a hard torso that belonged to none other than Zayn Malik. He smirked down at him, eyes narrowed and teeth hidden behind perfect, plump lips.

Niall sighed heavily, preparing for the impact to the side of his face, or the blow to his stomach, but it never came. Snapping his eyes back open, he saw Zayn talking to Harry and Liam with his eyes. When the two of them nodded, they sprung forward, and grabbed the blonde-haired boy by the biceps and dragged him down the corridor to the toilets.

The Irish boy groaned, tugging helplessly against their strong hold on him, but it was no use. Niall didn’t play sport, and he didn’t work out very often, so strength wasn’t something he had of a plentiful amount. Pushing an empty stall open, Zayn strode in, dragging the boy in by the collar. While the bullies drowned Niall in the water of the toilet, giving him small intakes of breath as they laughed rowdily at him, Niall tried not to be affected by the touch Zayn had on him, even when they were tearing him a part.

When they seemed to be satisfied with what they’d done, they stepped backwards, laughing amongst themselves before spitting at the poor boy that lay, breathless, on the linoleum flooring of the bathroom he had grown to hate. He was already late to class, as per usual, so deciding to take the rest of the class off, he stayed froze on the ground, trying to regain his breath and thoughts. His shirt was dripping from the toilet water, as was his hair and face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as much as he should.

It was when he saw a black shirt fall to the ground just by his face that he let his tears fall. He froze, and sat up; turning to where the material had come from, but the person was gone.

 

That afternoon, when Niall entered his house, it was silent, and he knew his parents were still at work. His brother had moved out two years ago, leaving him alone most afternoons. He appreciated it, and most days he liked it so they wouldn’t see what happened to him at school, but other times he wished they were so they saw what happened and could help him. But he knew what to wish for what to not wish for. And he knew wishing for the latter option wouldn’t be remotely helpful with his  _in love_ situation. He didn’t know why he loved  _him,_ it was stupid and so dangerous and unreturned, but it was something he had done since he saw the boy years back.

Heading to his room, he shut the door, and headed to his bathroom where he let the hot water of the bath run to his boiling temperature. When it was full, he sat in the water, soaking up the burning heat, and let his eyes slip close as the warmth healed the pain.

 

By Wednesday afternoon, he had managed to slip past anymore physical bullying moments. Fourth hour was gym, and despite that being his favourite lesson in previous years, he now hated it due to the other people who took it. Zayn and his crowd walked into the locker rooms rowdily, laughing amongst themselves and Harry yelped when Liam playfully wacked him over the head with his book bag. He glanced over to them for millisecond, but his eyes caught Zayn’s, so he averted his eyes immediately.

“Oh for fucks sake! I left my gear my locker! I’ll be back in jizz!” Harry called over his shoulder as he was halfway back out the door. Only four boys, including myself, took gym, along with only three other girls, but they were far too girly to get along with, well, to Niall’s tastes at least. Liam smiled, “I’ll go with you! Don’t want you slamming your hand in your locker again.”

Zayn snorted, and Niall smiled to himself as he remembered the incident he had witnessed months ago. Harry was opening his locker in a rush, and ended up slamming his own hand in the locker, breaking three fingers and spraining his wrist. It was when the locker room door slammed closed that he realised he was alone with Zayn.

Throwing his shirt over his head, he grabbed his sports shirt, and slipped his arms through the sleeves. As he was doing his shoes up, he felt eyes on him, but he dared not to look. However, curiosity is a natural human nature, and eventually his eyes fell on bare tan flesh of Zayn’s back.

Niall knew Zayn had tattoos, but he did not know of the fantail placed at the top of his spine. He took the time to memorise ever flick and curve of the intricate bird before he lowered his head when he heard him close his locker. Finishing up his shoes, Niall got to his feet, shut his own locker, and headed to the door. He was surprised that Zayn hadn’t said anything to him, but he appreciated the silence, and he appreciated Zayn being remotely civil without his mates.

When Zayn yanked the door open before him, he let his hand slip forward to grab it before Zayn let it snap back in his face, but he stood there holding it open, and that was all it took for Niall to grow more unneeded appreciate to the boy.

 


	3. My Body Is A Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis

The one thing Niall could pick up about others, is that they would do just about anything to fit in with their friends and peers. 

 _They_ were the people who were smokers, but actually hated the taste and knew about the consquences and actually gave a damn about them too. They were the people who drank at parties just so they were confident enough to talk to the people around them. They were the people who did illegal drugs so they could make others think things about them. They were the people pressured by other people around them to do things they normally wouldn't, just because it would give them a good name.

Zayn was one of those people.

The bullying continued, but when Zayn was by himself, he paid next to no attention to the blonde boy. But Niall wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. He loved Zayn - he was  _in love_ with Zayn, and he loved it when his brown eyes clashed with his own. But Zayn never did that when by his own, and when he was with others, they held a fiery hate that Niall feared with an ever greater fiery passion.

 

He was in english, fingers twiddling with his pen as he drew nonchalant swirls on his textbook cover, every now and then eyeing the Bradford-born boy who was seated in front of him. He tried to pay attention in this class, but the perfection of the boy who always chose to stretch his arms and ruffle his hair in this class was far too distracting, so he didn't get grades he could potentially get if he were seated someplace else - but this was Niall's only chance to ogle at the boy, so he took the C's he got gladly.

There was a knock on the door, and everyone in the room snapped their heads away from the Othello, and towards the unexpected entrance. Usually, Niall hated to pay attention to new students, but it was rather hard when the new student who walked in was quirky and unlike anyone he'd seen before. He wore a knitted beanie on his head, and a texturised fringe that was stylishly out-of-control, and dark wash jeans and a graphic tee. His nose was small and stout, his eyes a marvellus shade of blue and Niall thought that he was rather attractive, but then he glanced back to the boy in front of him, and he knew this new student couldn't compare whatsoever.

“Uh, good morning…I’m Louis Tomlinson,” his voice was feminine, a bit high pitched, but suited the way he walked and his posture well – the voice screamed  _him_.

Mr Elwood, the English teacher who hated interruptions, let his angered expression drop, and replaced it with a heart-warming smile. “Ah, hello! I’m Mr Elwood, your new English teacher, and these are your peers,” his hand motioned to the pack of staring students and Louis smiled, looking intimated. His eyes fell on Niall, and he smiled at him, but looked away a moment later, not wanting to make the situation awkward. “Take any empty seat you’d like, and try to catch up!” Louis smiled, and muttered a tiny ‘thanks’ before searching the room.

Niall kept his eyes on his work in front of him as he finished the questions Mr Elwood left them, and when he heard a scraping of metal against lino, he looked up to find Louis biting his lip awkwardly. “Can I, uh, sit here?”

Niall nodded, “go for it,” before smiling and looking away. He felt bad. He wanted him to sit here, and he was happy that he chose him of all people when there was a spare seat beside Harry, but Niall wasn’t the popular kid, and he didn’t want to ruin Louis' chances of claiming a high reputation. When he sat down and pulled his books out, NIall caught the eyes of the boys in front of him, all watching him curiously, watching how he moved fluidly and without concern, and a tad awkward and fragile. Harry’s eyes were wide and round as his mouth was slightly ajar, and Liam just looked surprised, but Zayn looked distasted as his gaze flickered between Louis and Niall, and then he muttered something he couldn’t hear and turned back around to watch the board.

Niall looked over at Louis, watching him fiddle with his pen and how he looked distractedly out the window, teeth biting lip as though it were a nervous habit. Sighing, he raised my voice. “Hi, I’m Niall Horan, nice to meet you.” He held his hand out and his head snapped to mine, and he grinned.

His hand slipped into his as they shook, “nice to meet you too, Niall.”

“So, where’d you move from?” Niall asked, scribbling down the notes from the board.

“Uh, Doncaster. Mum’s a nurse and she could get better work here, and I wasn’t really leaving anything behind, so we decided it was for the best.”

The boy nodded, understanding. “Yeah, well four years ago I moved from Mullingar in Ireland, so I know how that feels.”

Louis nodded in appreciation, and then paused. “I don’t want to annoy you, but would you be able to show me to my next class, or tell me where it is?”

With a nod, he spoke, “definitely, what do you have?”

Louis reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a folded white sheet, and smoothed it out. “Uh, I have Biology.”

He bit his lip, “I don’t take biology, but I can try my best to explain where it is?” Louis frowned, but nodded nonetheless, ears and eyes alert. “Well, you turn right out of this class, and down the very end you go up the stairs and–”

“Oh shut the fuck up gay boy, I’ll show him,” a voice interjected, and the culprit belonged to Harry Styles, and he was eyeing Louis mischievously, and Louis blushed, ducking his chin. He met Harry’s eyes and, for a moment Niall considered saying no, but then he thought about the benefit of him making friends with better reputations, so he nodded.

“Fine, go with Harry…he uh, he’ll show you.” Louis nodded understandably, and smiled warmly at Harry before turning back to his work. Niall sighed, falling back into his own work, small-talking with Louis for the rest of the hour.

 

The bell rang, signalling the end of the class, and the Irish lad packed up his gear and said goodbye to Louis, who gingerly stood by Harry’s side before heading out the door with Liam tagging along. Zayn and he had the next class together, and he was busy packing his own gear away, so Niall zipped his bag up and headed to the door.

He was trailing behind, the blonde knew, and he half expected the tan boy to grab him from behind and push him up against the wall and beat the crap out of him, but he stopped and talked to Mr Elwood. Niall didn’t want to listen to what he was saying, but his voice was very distinctive, as was Mr Elwood’s, so it was hard to miss. After listening for a moment, he decided to turn away and head to physics, as he didn’t want him knowing that he knew he was writing a book.

Physics was a class he never enjoyed, mainly because he wasn’t fond of the grammar and the way you had to be brilliantly intellectual to understand what was happening, but also because he didn’t have a partner. Class numbers were odd, and unfortunately, that left the friend-less Niall alone at his table at the back of the classroom. Class passed slowly, and when it ended, he speedily left the classroom. Unfortunately, he smacked into the chest of Liam Payne, who swore at the immediate and unexpected contact.

“Uh, I, er, sorry,” he choked out before scurrying away to his next class, but a hand gripped his shoulder. Niall shut his eyes tight, waiting for a punch, but nothing happened. Louis’ watched Niall curiously, and he questioned his behaviour, but Niall passed him by. He narrowed his eyes but shrugged, and walked with him to their next class together, listening to him raving on about Harry and how  _amazing_ and  _charming_ he was. The Irish listener wanted to gag, but it was better for both lads if he didn’t.

Niall didn’t know Zayn was listening not far behind, and watching the handsome Irish boy laugh and smile forcefully at the Doncaster lad. He couldn’t stop himself thinking he could make the boy laugh without needing it to be forced.

 

Lunch arrived quicker than expected, and Louis walked hesitantly beside Niall as they headed to the lunch room. The way there, Niall took it upon himself to confess about his friendship status to the boy. “Uh, Louis, I need to tell you something…”

Louis’ head perked up, and he smiled, getting in line behind the boy. “Sure, what?”

“I’m not popular.”

The way the Irish lad said it confused Louis, because he wasn’t sure what he meant by it. He wasn’t popular – why was that something he needed to tell him, something he needed to confess? “Ok…”

Niall sighed, “if you hang out with me, you’ll just get called a gay fag and probably pushed into a garbage can or have your face flushed in a toilet bowl…I’m warning you. I don’t mind you hanging out with me. You’re a great lad and good laugh, but…I don’t want to be the reason you get bullied.”

Louis smiled appreciatively. “Well thank you for warning me, but I am a gay fag and I don’t really care what other people think about that.”

Niall laughed loudly at what he had said before grabbing their lunch trays and heading towards their table. Before Louis sat down opposite Niall; Zayn, Harry and Liam strolled into the canteen. Louis smiled widely, waving to Harry and calling out his name. Harry’s head snapped to the direction of the boy’s table, eyes falling on the clearly joyful Doncaster-raised boy. Harry didn’t smile, he just turned his head away, laughing to Zayn about something Liam said. Louis pouted, falling into his chair and eyeing Niall suspiciously.

“What’s up his ass?” Niall was about to say something sarcastic about what he said, when Louis raised his finger, “wait. Don’t say anything.” Niall laughed loudly again, happy he could finally laugh with someone, instead of crying into his pillow as he fell asleep, lonely and knowing he’d be alone in the morning too.

When the three popular boys walked past their table with their trays, Niall let his eyes trail over the Bradford born bad-ass, and how his skinny jeans showed off his thin thighs and how the denim vest over his unzipped black hoodie that showed a loose white shirt underneath made Niall’s heart sigh appreciatively. There was nothing else that Niall loved about Zayn’s fashion sense, but sometimes the leather combat boots rose above the rest.

Zayn caught Niall’s stare, and he scoffed, and then smirked at the boy who had red cheeks and was hiding his face in his hand. Louis saw the exchange, and turned to look at Niall through narrowed eyes. If he said anything, Niall didn’t hear because he was too focused on watching the boy he had loved for four years care about other people and not him, while Niall was caring about him with everything his heart could give.


	4. Heart On Fire

Two weeks passed by without any major harassment from Zayn’s group, and Niall had already formed a great-friendship with Louis. They walked into school together, Louis chatting about how his sister’s getting to the age where she must criticize everything he does and she has to gossip about everything she sees, and in that moment Niall couldn’t be happier that he didn’t have a sister.

The first half of the day passed easily and without any major incidents happening. He caught a few angry looks from a few students, but he didn’t bother with them, he was over their harmful words and vicious stares that he learned to shield himself away from them. When Louis’ ran up to Niall at lunch, he feared the most, because Louis never ran, and when he did it was either amazing news or terrible news…and Louis was smiling like a maniac, which meant it was good, but very bad at the same time.

“Guess whAT?” Louis said, yelling the latter word’s end in the canteen, drawing the attention of some students. Niall cocked his head to the side, curious now more than anything. Niall questioned him with his eyes, and Louis held up a white card. Niall took it from his hands, examining the words carefully.

_Congratulations, you’re invited to the 18 th birthday party for Zayn Malik this Saturday night – 13 January._

The rest of the invite became a blur to Niall as his mind was swimming. Why was  _Louis_ invited to the party – Zayn and him never talked, well, not what he had told Niall anyways, so why would he get an invite to the most popular boy at schools party?

“Are– are, uh, you going to go?” The blonde boy asked nervously, cupping his elbow in his hand as he handed the invite back.

Louis rolled his eyes, “only if you are,” he said before handing the invite back. “This one’s yours. Harry told me to give this to you in Biology. Mine’s in my bag.” Niall’s head spun. “So, are you going to go and try hook up with your lover boy?” Niall stared at Louis blankly, instantly regretting telling Louis his secret a few days before. He had a feeling that a drunken Louis would be a secret-spilling, truth-telling drunk…but he wasn’t going to pass up with option of maybe accidentally on purpose kissing Zayn drunkenly.

 

When Saturday rolled around, Niall’s nerves were so out of control his legs were shaking and his palms were clammy with sweat. Louis was in the bathroom, and they were minutes away from leaving and going to the party. Niall’s mother was fine with it, but she did mention not to get too  _drunk_ as she didn’t want vomit on her carpet or on his bed sheets when came home later. Niall chuckled and kissed her on the cheek as she went to get the car ready to drop them there.

Louis came down the stairs all dressed, and Niall wolf-whistled at his appearance. He wore light coloured skinny jeans that hugged his figure nicely, and flannel overtop of a  _The Killers_ band shirt. He looked casual, but effortlessly cool, and Niall suddenly felt self-conscious in his baggy dark jeans, navy shirt and white converse. Louis blushed, and chose a dramatic pose at the bottom of the stairs, before complimenting Niall’s appearance. Usually Niall wouldn’t take compliments, but he needed all the confidence he could get, so if that was how he’d get it, he’d take it greedily.

 

They stepped into the rowdy house full of sweaty half-drunk teenagers, and music was blaring loudly from all sections of the house. There was a tall, burly man by the door who was taking the invitations, and when he let two best friends through, they were instantly shoved into the homely life of Zayn Malik, his friends, and his alcohol. They couldn’t see Zayn at first or Harry in Louis’ case. Louis hadn’t admitted it to Niall, but he had a taste for the curly haired lad who shared a similar music to him. Louis and Niall caught eyes as they headed to the drinks, each picking up a beer and pulling of the caps. Niall took a long drink, drowning nearly half the bottle at once. He knew that he’d need it to get through tonight.

 

Sometime during the night, more people had arrived, but a large group had left – so it wasn’t as crowded as it had been. Louis wasn’t at Niall’s side anymore; he was lost in the crowd somewhere. But Harry was missing too from Liam’s side, so he had wild thoughts of what they were doing together  _if_ they were together. He shook the thoughts away though when he felt sick. Liam was chatting to a group of girls, who, in Niall’s taste, were nicely dressed but fake and bitchy nonetheless.

Zayn on the other hand, looked unbelievably handsome.

As soon as Niall had seen him, his knees felt strangely weak and his head felt heavy. Niall was leaning against the far wall away from the dancing bodies when he heard the tan boy’s voice greeting people, saying thank you to people who were leaving, and then headed in Niall’s direction, and Niall’s head began to swell and throb within his skull.

He stopped by Niall, reaching for a drink beside him, not noticing Niall whatsoever. Or so he had thought. “Thank you for coming tonight Niall, hope you’re havin’ fun,” and then he left a gobsmacked Niall by the wall as he headed over to Liam on the couch, throwing a risky grin in Niall’s direction – and Niall knew by Zayn’s eyes that it was for him.

 

Louis was drunk – very, very drunk – and Niall could tell straight away when he heard a girly giggle that was too boyish to be any female. Niall rolled his eyes and headed to the sound by the staircase, ready to wrap his arms around his waist for support when he noticed a stronger looking pair was already there. Harry stopped and looked at Niall in the eyes before flushing, and dropping his arms, but Niall held up his hands in defeat, told him to look after him, and turned away.

Despite he and Harry didn’t get along  _at all_ , he knew he’d never let someone get so hurt they could be seriously injured or worse. And even a highly intoxicated Louis was dumb enough to know what was pain and what was pleasure – he just hoped he knew that Harry may not always been pleasure.

 

By three am, the crowds had thinned to nearly only ten people, Niall and Louis, the birthday boy himself with Harry and Liam, and three girls Niall hadn’t seen before and two boys who were holding two of the girls hands who he vaguely remembered seeing at school before – but never hanging out with Zayn and his crew. They were in the lounge room, laughing and talking rowdily. If it hadn’t been for Louis, Niall would have left hours ago, but he and Harry were getting along quite nicely, and Niall didn’t want to have to be the one to break that up.

Niall and Zayn kept having eye contact, but neither could decide if it was awkward or not, so they said nothing about it. Liam stood up, holding one of the girls by his side. She was gurgling a little, slurring over her words as she petted Liam’s head drunkenly. “I’m going to take her home, she’s not making sense and I think she’s going to pass out any second.”

A blonde girl, who was talking to one of the boy’s got to her feet. She wasn’t drunk, and that was obvious by the way she was able to walk normally in her heels and kiss Zayn’s cheek and murmur a thank you to him. He smiled back at her, returning the thanks. She the announced her sober driver title and took the remaining girl with her, and two unknown lads faces. Soon, the house was quiet, leaving only Harry, Louis Zayn and Niall himself there.

No one knew what to say at first, so Niall got to his feet, “anyone wants a drink?” Harry and Louis said no, as did Zayn, so Niall headed through to the kitchen where the drinks were. He popped the cap off and raised the bottle to his lips, but he froze when he heard footsteps. He turned to the sudden, unexpected noise, and found himself looking straight into the eyes of Zayn.

Niall questioned him, but he just shrugged, “changed my mind.” He yanked the fridge open, pulled out a beer and scanned the counter top for the opener. Niall coughed awkwardly, gaining his attention before handing the bottle opener into his awaiting hand. Niall didn’t miss the way Zayn’s hand touched his, causing an electric shock between the two of them. Zayn jumped slightly, whereas Niall tore his hand back suddenly.

“I, uh, sorry,” Niall choked out between his drunk lips before stepping aside to head back to the couch. But something in his brain stopped him. He turned at looked back at Zayn with a smile, who returned it cautiously. They headed back to the couches together, not talking, but not ignoring each other’s presence either. However, when they entered, their eyes met awkwardly when they saw Harry lying on top of Louis.

Niall knew Zayn was a tad homophobic, but at the same time, he knew it was partially a mask to raise his reputation and to continue bullying people – Niall – about their own sexuality. But the way Zayn frowned at the couple on the couch, he almost looked  _lost_ and strangely lonely, that Niall wanted to reach out and hug the boy. But he knew if he did that, he’d cross lines he knew weren’t to be crossed, and he’d either have a broken collar bone or he’d be in a casket.

So, together they headed outside after Zayn announced he wanted a smoke, and Niall declared he didn’t want to watch the porno, so they indulged in each other’s silent company. That was the thing Niall found odd about Zayn. Around his friends he was loud and sometimes annoying, but when by himself, he was quiet and the total opposite of what he was like with his friends.

Niall knew it was so he’d fit in amongst the popular crowd, and he wondered if his friends really knew he wasn’t the loud smart-ass he made himself out to be. Niall silently hoped they did, so one day, if the whole school found out Zayn was a fake, they wouldn’t abandon him and lose their friendship. But knowingly Zayn’s secrecy, they most likely didn’t know.

“So, um,” Zayn started, causing Niall’s head to snap up and face him anxiously. “Did you like the party?”

Niall smiled, looking up at the stars as he replied. “Surprisingly, yes – I did.” Zayn cocked his head to the side, and then turned his whole body to face Niall.

“Surprisingly? Did you not think you’d like it?” Zayn questioned a smile in his voice.

Niall chuckled, “let’s be honest here Zayn, you’re not exactly the nicest bloke to me, so I  was a bit worried you were going to get me to come and then beat the crap outta me,” the Irish boy spoke truthfully, but with humour to ease the seriousness of his words.

You’d have to be blind to miss the way Zayn’s body froze, and the way he squeezed his eyes shut as though in pain. “Niall, I…” He stopped, opening his eyes and staring deep into Niall’s. He inhaled deeply and dropped his cigarette to the floor, but then Harry walked out onto the porch without a top on and only in his boxers claiming he had ‘visited heaven and he was now Gods messenger’ before he headed back inside, ruining the mood Zayn and Niall had created instantly.

Niall waited a moment before asking, “What were you going to say?”

But Zayn shrugged, “nothing – it wasn’t important.” Niall inwardly groaned. Although drunk, Niall knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was Zayn.


	5. Intermission: I Can Lift A Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission consists of background about characters, and provides small and speedy reads.

The next week at school was strange for Niall Horan. Louis was sort of connected to Harry’s hip, and asked if he was able to sit with him at lunch today. Niall – not wanting to be a buzz kill – shoved him away and told him to ‘not be stupid’ and to ‘go sit with your lover’ which Louis gave him a bad look for, but left nonetheless. So just like a few weeks ago, Niall found himself eating alone at lunch, but this time he felt more alone than he had ever felt before.

Zayn had never had a girlfriend, or boyfriend, while at high-school, mainly because – despite the fact he was rebellious and didn’t care much for rules or people’s feelings – he was a rather large softie at heart, and was wanting to wait for the right someone to come along and make him the happiest person he could before devoting himself to someone who didn’t care or matter. It was just how his mind was set. Harry and Liam teased him for it sometimes, but he knew that they accepted it deep down, and they were sometimes jealous of his purity – because he had no one to be ashamed of for taking his virginity.

However, the rest of the school body knew nothing of this, because all they knew was what they saw – and what they saw was a drug addicted bad-boy who shagged a different girl every weekend and got high on weekdays after school. But that’s not what Niall saw.

Niall saw everything he really was but Niall didn’t know how to put all of the puzzle pieces together to make him realise that he was okay with that – that he was okay with everything Zayn was. One day Niall would understand that, and would fit the pieces together and realised that Zayn wasn’t what you saw, it was what you knew, and at the moment Niall knew everything but at the same time he knew nothing.

Niall didn’t know that he wasn’t okay with that. But he would.


	6. Little Drop Of Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zayn likes poetry and stuff

Niall was at the dinner table, lifting a chunk of his steak to his lips when his mother asked the awkward question. “Niall, honey, are you friendly with Trisha’s son, Zayn Malik?”

Niall didn’t know how to respond, so he told the truth. Sort of. “Uh, I know him, yeah.”

Maura, Niall’s mother, happened to be work friends with Trisha, and every now and then they did family things together – like dinners and camping and movie nights at each other’s houses. Fortunately for Niall, he always managed to come up with an excuse to get out of it. So tonight he knew that she was going to tell him about another family outing with the Malik’s, and he would slyly get out of it. Or so he hoped silently.

“Well, they’ve invited us over for dinner tomorrow night. I said we’d all go. And since tomorrow you haven’t anything on – I thought it would be perfect!”

Niall’s face dropped slightly, but he didn’t want to show his _absolute_ disappointment to his mother when he saw her joy. So, being the good son he was, he agreed. Later that night he cried in the shower, and he choked out swear words into his pillow, as his mind gave him only images of the Bradford boy with the perfect hair and amazing skin and beautiful eyes, and got him no sleep whatsoever for school the next day.

 

Zayn knew. That was blatantly obvious. He knew about the dinner tonight. He kept throwing Niall curious and awkward glances in physics, and Niall could feel his stare on him as he took notes. He lifted his eyes, averting them where Zayn sat. He was excepting a cold glare, or for him to readjust his gaze, but Zayn just stared at him with little caution and eyes  _pleading_ but he was unsure what was wanted. Niall, cheeks now red, turned his attention back to the teacher; trying his best to ignore the stares he was being thrown.

 

After class as he was heading to third hour, he felt hands grab him from behind, and he groaned aloud, knowing what was coming next. He was slammed against the wall, and he looked in Liam’s eyes, and Harry’s was beside him too. Zayn was hovering behind them, eyes narrowed and not the tiniest bit looking as though he agreed with what they were doing to him. Niall cowered against the wall as they laid their abusing hands on him, and other students stopped and cheered, whereas others hurried away in fear of being their next victim.

When the beating was done, Niall’s nose was bleeding, and Harry and Liam yelped with proudness and they strode away, eyeing Zayn cautiously as he stayed and didn’t follow. Niall groaned, wiping blood away, and muttering monotonously as it kept flowing. “Come on,” Zayn muttered lowly, and Niall froze against the floor. His eyes locked with Zayn, whose eyes were warm and helpful.

He held his hand out, and examined it for a moment, tracing his expression in fear of being hurt again. But he only found comfort. So, he gingerly grabbed Zayn’s hand that dragged him to his feet. He loosened his grip on Zayn’s hand, but he didn’t let go. The dark haired boy led him down the corridor, hand still in his, and they stopped out the front of his locker.

Zayn let go to enter his code, and when it unlocked, the first thing Niall saw was a neat stack of books on the bottom shelf, and on the top, material was piled up messily. Zayn grabbed the first one of the top, eyed Niall, and then smiled appreciatively before grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the boy’s toilets at the end of the hall. Shoving him in, Niall instantly went to the toilet, grabbing a handful of toilet tissue, holding it under his nose.

Zayn walked over to him shyly and pinched the bridge of Niall’s nose. Niall could feel red heat rise up his necks and to his cheeks as the proximity of the two of them. Niall could never admit to Zayn his feelings, he could hardly admit them to himself, but it was moments with  _this Zayn_ that made Niall remember what he was fighting for – what he wanted, and why he loved the dirt bag.

When his nose stopped bleeding, Zayn handed the boy fresh toilet paper, but this time it was damp, and the Irish lad wiped away the dried blood around his nose. When it was clean and dry, Niall turned to him, smiling at him with thanks before noticing his blood-stained shirt. Niall grimaced. Zayn chuckled, pulling at the hem of his shirt, causing his cheeks to flame impossibly hotter. Zayn held up the black material, and Niall knew right away it was a clean shirt; emphasis on clean.

Niall lifted his shirt over his head, quickly slipping the shirt Zayn handed him over his head self-consciously. He thanked Zayn, but the bell had gone at least half an hour ago, so they stayed in the toilets, talking occasionally to each other, but mainly they sat and enjoyed each other’s company – but neither of them would admit it.

 

When they pulled out the front of the Malik’s house that night, Niall was beyond nervous. He was dressed casually, like his parents, in just jeans and a brown sweater and his converse. His mother wore a dressy shirt and jeans too, and he told her how beautiful she looked, and she hit him playfully, which only eased his nerves for a short amount of time. When they rang the doorbell, Niall’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. He had to pretend to be great friends with the boy – the boy whom he had loved for four years and who May or may not hate him back.

When the door was wretched open, it revealed none other than Zayn himself, who was wearing a polite smile and happiness in his eyes. He kissed Niall’s mother’s cheek and shook his dad’s hand, but when he saw him, he froze, unsure of what to do. Niall was uncertain too, so they just smiled at each other and headed inside, Zayn shutting the door and following behind him. They headed into the lounge where the parents were greeting each other and talking vibrantly. His couch was a burnt orangey red, and was made from leather, and looked recently polished under the spotlights. There was a large TV against the far wall, and a glass centre table and furry black rug in the middle of the room.

Niall caught Trisha’s eyes,  _who_  lit up in return. “You must be Niall! How are you hon?”

Niall smiled, kissed her cheek and shrugged. “I’m fine thank you, yourself?”

She smiled back, “I’m fantastic. It’s lovely to  _finally_ meet you!” Niall nodded, ears feeling hot and cheeks red. He introduced himself to Yaser, and when the parents headed into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, Zayn grabbed Niall’s wrist and dragged him down the hallway.

Niall’s heart was pounding in his ears as he was led down the dark corridor, Zayn flicking lights as he went, lighting up the path they tracked. Finally, they stopped walking. They were at the end of what seemed to be a never-ending hallway, and the door there was slightly ajar. Zayn pushed it in with his spare hand, hand slapping the wall in search of the switch. When light filled the room, he led them in, and dropped his hand. Niall stood there, examining the room with awe and strong curiosity.

There was a double bed in the centre of the room, and a bedside table on the right side, stacking high with books and a lamp and a fancy looking stereo. Beside that were a mirror and a wardrobe on the other wall. On the left side of the room there was giant bookshelf filled with rows of books that reached floor to ceiling and Niall wondered how he managed to reach the ones at the top. Beside the books, there was a wooden desk, a laptop placed on top of a pile of school books and lose sheets of paper. The lamp was off. And, down below that, there was a rugged looking brown leather couch, where a blanket was tangled in between a red cushion. Posters scattered the wall, but in neat rows, and the room naturally screamed  _Zayn Malik_ but not the asshole Zayn, the real Zayn. The nice, quiet, and caring one.

Niall looked over to Zayn who was standing nervously by the door. Niall nodded, “it’s nice. It’s very…you,” he explained, turning back to the posters. He recognised a few, but other than the odd couple they were all foreign names to him.

“What? Douche-y?”  Zayn suggested, only half sarcastic.

Niall twisted on his heel, eyeing Zayn cautiously. Eventually he shook his head. “No…secretive and unique. It has a good personality, because it’s in its own little world. It’s influenced by  _you,_  andnot other people.” As soon as Niall spoke, he regretted it, because the way he had said it made it sound as though Niall  _liked_ him and Niall did like him but he didn’t want Zayn to know that and he cursed to  himself in his head.

But Zayn just smiled at him, walking over to where Niall was inspected the book shelf. “This is my favourite book,” the Bradford boy muttered quietly, before picking up the book off the couch. It was a poetry book, full of small poems Niall had never heard of or read before, but they were short and sweet and they made Niall realise just how strange Zayn was.

But Niall knew that  _this_ Zayn would be different tomorrow at school – so Niall made the most of it now while he could.


	7. Interval: Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interval: a short chapter that is treated almost like a diary entry-length, but with minor information that provides an insight into their lives, and minor events, without adding unnecessary details.

The two teenage boys sat beside each other at the dinner table, and afterwards, they both offered to clean up and let the adults go talk in the lounge and squeal at the television. Niall stacked the plates up by the sink while Zayn filled the sink with water and squirted in detergent. While Zayn washed, Niall dried, and as they cleaned, they talked.

Zayn learned about Niall’s brother, and how he had left home and was now working for law firm in the city. He learned that they were close and they talked almost every night on the phone and texted throughout the day. He learned that Niall’s favourite band was The Script, but he also liked Maroon 5 and The Paper Kites. He learned Niall’s favourite colour was chocolate brown, for reasons Niall didn’t explain to him, but Niall told reminded himself it was because of  _his_ eyes. He learned that Niall played the guitar and he liked to dance in the shower.

Niall learned that Zayn had three sisters, but two of them were out tonight, and the one that was here didn’t really speak and didn’t like meeting new people a real lot. He learned Zayn was a big fan of reading, especially poetry, and he liked blues music and the random heavy rock song you’d never expect him to like. He learned they both shared the loved for The Paper Kites and the Script. He learned Zayn wasn’t a big fan of Maroon 5 or of fruit cake, and Niall gasped and hit him with a wet cloth at both confessions. He learned that Zayn had the most beautiful harmonic laugh, and he learned they both liked to sing.

They both learned that every time their eyes met their stomachs fluttered.


	8. Ready When You Get Here

School the next day was buzzing. Friday was what everyone called 'Announcement Day', and although everyone knew it was about the school dance in a months time, no one really knew the theme or who was entered for King and Queen. Therefore, people were hovered around the speakers and television - but not Niall Horan; he scurried through the crowds, trying his best to avoids the bullies and tormenters. 

He went by mostly unnoticed, as they couldn’t care less about the no name boy, but when he rounded the corner and slammed in Zayn Malik’s chest, his chance of being unseen suddenly slipped through his fingers. He met his eyes and they were soft and not caring. Zayn stepped to the side, and carried on down the corridor, and Niall ignored the strange and curious looks Harry and Liam gave the two of them. They wouldn’t question Zayn’s motives, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t think them.

When Niall saw Louis in the corridor, he smiled widely, glad to see his friend. He hadn’t hung out with him much, as Louis was trying to  _out_ his and Harry’s currently non-existent relationship. According to Harry, one-night stands are his common thing, and Niall found that would be true, but he didn’t tell Louis that. They walked to class together, and Louis asked if Niall was going to ask Zayn to the dance. Niall looked at him with wild eyes that practically told Louis he was a crazy man. Louis understood and apologised as they entered the English classroom.

 

The next two weeks passed speedily, much to the boy’s likings, and soon enough they were at Louis’ house, lounging on his bed, talking about nothing in particular. It was then that Louis brought up the dance subject again.

“Harry told me he wanted to ask me to the dance today…but he said he couldn’t,” the way Louis said it made Niall sympathize for the curly-haired boy, but then he remember what that boy did to him and how he wasn’t taking Louis because the fear of other people’s thought were holding him back. “I told him I understood though….and that was okay. He likes me Niall, and I couldn’t be happier.  I just wish he wasn’t so…I don’t know.”

“Scared?” Niall offered, and Louis nodded sadly. “Don’t get too worked up about it. One day you two will announce your relationship, and if it’s in your hands, we both know it will be grand.” Louis snorted at Niall’s confident advice.

“What about you then Mr H – who are you taking?”

Niall snorted, “I’m not asking anyone.”

Louis looked pained, “why not?” Niall looked at him as though the answer to his question was blatantly obvious. And it was, because Louis frowned. “I know you love the boy, but you can’t be all  _depressed_ Niall! You have to get out there and  _meet_ people! Just ask someone! I mean, I didn’t ask anyone, but I don’t need to because I’m going with Harry in spirit.”

Niall snorted at this, but then shook his head. “I don’t want to go with anyone else. I just want Zayn, I don’t care what comes with it.”

 

The next few weeks were hectic at school. The dance committee was busy getting the dance organised, and girls were frantic about dresses and dates, and boys were nervous about asking girls – but overall, everything was going smoothly, and Niall had gone by unnoticed and unquestioned by anyone.

The dance was being held on Saturday night, and it was now the Friday before, and whilst everyone else was nervous, Niall was calm and satisfied in his track pants drinking soft drink on his couch, watching a terrible reality TV show while his parents were at a date night with Mr and Mrs Malik. Niall groaned in annoyance when his doorbell rang, and he checked his watch. It was way too early for his parents to be home, so he ruffled up his hair and headed to the door. He swung it open, eyes expectant, and when he saw Zayn dressed in dark wash jeans and a leather jacket, he knew something was up.

“Uh, hey?” Niall greeted, but it sounded like a question because of the curious tone he used.

“Hi.” Was all the Irish boy got in return.

“Um, can I help you?”

Zayn smirked, “I want to take you somewhere.”

Niall rolled his eyes, “really? Because I am not going anywhere looking like a homeless man.” Zayn frowned, disappointed. “Give me five minutes.” The smile returned.

 

“I am  _not_ getting on that.” Niall said harshly, fear lingering in his voice and traces of it in his eyes. He stared at the motorcycle ludicrously, eyes blared wide at the dangerousness of it.

“Oh c’mon, be a wild one for once! I’m driving, you’ll be safe – here, and there’s a spare helmet too.” Niall took the helmet from Zayn’s hand, but didn’t put it on. He held it in his hands, passing it from hand to hand. Catching Zayn’s hopeful eyes, he sighed, pulling it onto his head.

“I feel stupid.”

Zayn smirked at him, grabbing Niall’s arms and wrapping them around his waist. “Trust me Niall, you do  _not_ look stupid.”

When the engine of the vehicle started, and Zayn gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, Niall’s fear faded away into nerves. As they raced down the street, Niall no longer felt self-conscious about feeling stupid in the helmet, in fact, he was thankful for it, because the was Zayn turned corners left Niall feeling extremely _unsafe._ But something about Zayn how he’d ask every now and then if he was okay made Niall’s heart clench, and there was no denying how safe he really felt with his arms wrapped around Zayn’s torso. They eventually drove into a quieter part of the city, and soon enough, they were cutting the engine outside a park – and Niall wondered why on earth they’d stopped  _here_. A park. At night. Hadn’t Zayn ever heard of sexual predators?

Zayn must have noticed Niall’s hesitance, as he wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulder, pulling him closer to his body. Niall didn’t understand it. Niall didn’t understand Zayn. Why did  _Zayn_ want to hang out with the boy he used to bully every day? The boy he  _hates?_ Zayn was a mystery, as was his thoughts, and so were his actions. They stopped by the picnic table that was underneath a large, old willow tree, and Zayn sat close to Niall’s side.

“I write.”

Niall smiled, “I know.”

“You know?”

“Yes.”

Zayn paused. “How?”

Niall blushed under the moonlight. “Uh…I heard you talking about it to Mr Elwood weeks ago.”

Zayn nodded, seeming completely unharmed by what he had just said. “Well, this is where I get inspiration. This is most likely my most favourite place in the world. A few weeks ago it was announced it was going to be demolished so they could build town houses on it. But I was a part of the protesters – and we won. Now I value this place with my heart, and I make sure I visit it as much as I can so people never think it’s not used.”

Niall watched Zayn as he spoke, and he loved the way he used hand gestures and made random shapes with his fingers.  When Zayn caught Niall staring, he ducked his chin, and Niall recognised the habit as one of his own – one did when embarrassed.

“Zayn, can I ask you something?”

Zayn raised his head and looked into the younger boys eyes. He nodded. “Anything.”

“Why are you hanging out with me?” Niall kept his eyes on Zayn the whole time. “Don’t you hate me?”

Zayn smiled softly, turning away and looking up at the stars. “I’ve never hated you. I acted like I hated you because it was actually the complete opposite – I think you’re fucking amazing Niall.” Niall was blushing and Zayn knew this and they were locking eyes and they weren’t talking anymore – neither of them was even sure they were breathing. But it didn’t matter because as soon as Zayn started to lean forward Niall knew what was coming and his eyes flickered shut. And when he felt his lips collide, he knew.

He knew this was a thing he was okay with.


	9. Can't Make You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice Cream too, thanks.

The first thing that ran through Niall’s mind when their lips touched was just how  _soft_ and  _experienced_ they were. Niall’s mind then became slush, and his thoughts were  _Zayn_ and how  _this was his first kiss_ and _how he’d give everything he had to be good at kissing_ and _not doing this crap lip-work he was doing now._

Their lips were still for the time being, just settling on the feeling on being  _together._ But, eventually, the Bradford boy added more pressure to the contact, and brought his hands up to cup Niall’s cheek, whereas Niall’s hands wove into the short hair at the nape of Zayn’s neck. The air was crisp against the teenager’s cheeks, but they were rapidly heating at the contact. Niall, feeling more confident, then released Zayn’s hairand ran his fingers down his leather-cladded spine, and stopped at his hips, where he let his fingers dig into the exposed flesh there. Zayn nibbled on the younger boys lip tenderly, and when the response he got was a high-pitched whine, he smiled. He let his tongue wander along the boys lip, but pulled back suddenly when he heard a crack of branches coming from the pathway.

Niall was in a daze as Zayn wiped his mouth, carefully eyeing the two drunken men coming down the walkway, nearly reaching their table. Without hesitation, Zayn grasped Niall’s hand, yanking him off the table, and down through the trees, short-cutting their way around the men and back to where the motorcycle was parked. Niall pulled his helmet on, but before he locked it in place, Zayn swept his face down and to in line with his, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner or his mouth. Niall blushed under the protection of the dark helmet. Getting onto the vehicle, they sped down the street, and back into the city lights. Instead of heading back to Niall’s house, Zayn turned left and parked outside a dainty looking corner store, the open light flashing dully in the window.

Niall cocked an eyebrow, but Zayn just smirked, heading inside. It was like most corner stores and dairies. Ice-cream’s by the counter, lollies in glass cabinets and screw-top lids, and refrigerators against the wall with different branded soft drinks. But from the look on Zayn’s face, Niall knew this place had something else no other dairy had.

“Two chocolate milkshakes please, with ice-cream too thanks,” Zayn said, throwing some change on the counter and returning the shop assistants smile. He caught the other boy’s confused stare, and shrugged, “the best milkshakes in London.” Niall smirked, hands clutched together nervously, and silently cursing to himself for blushing under and attention Zayn had towards him. But he couldn’t help it. The looks,  _his eyes,_ his good-Samaritan heart, and his  _everything –_ it made him weak at the knees and his stomach fill with butterflies.

The lady at the counter handed him the two white cups, and Zayn flashed her with a wide grin, before handing Niall the drink. They left the shop, and Niall didn’t dare taste it till Zayn tried his, and when Zayn raised it to his lips, he did the same. The chocolate taste hit his tongue in a thick mixture of milk and slushed ice-cream, and the coolness of it sent chills down his spine. Zayn was right. They were the best milkshakes in London.

Zayn watched expectantly. “Well?” He prompted and eyes boring into his.

Niall smirked, shrugging. “They’re ok.” Even though Zayn knew he was joking, he growled playfully before his gaze fell on his lips. He looked  _worried_ about something, and Niall wondered if he was thinking the same thing;  _what were we?_

“Niall, I’m sorry for everything I did…and everything I  _say,”_ Niall’s gaze softened, but he let the boy continue. “I’m sorry for being an absolute dick to you. You deserved nothing you got, and I’ll do anything for you to forgive me. Anything. And I promise you nothing like that will ever happen again, I assure you. Niall, I am so, so  _sorry._ And I know that word isn’t fair to say because it means nothing but it’s all I’ve got. It’s all I can say because I don’t know what else to, and I’m shit at wording things on the spot but I just care so much about you Niall – I want to put everything behind me but I can’t and I know you won’t ever forget the putdowns and the disgusting words I said and things I did. But please, please, try – please, for me, because I’ll do anything to make you realise how much I regret everything I did.”

He was slightly out of breath after his sudden, unexpected outburst, but he was satisfied with what he’d said. He had told the truth and he had said everything he was thinking  _and_ feeling. Niall knew his eyes were as wide as saucers, but he made no attempt to change them, and he suddenly felt sick and he didn’t want the sweetness of his milkshake anymore because he had all the sweetness he’d need right in front of him, right  _in_ Zayn – it was Zayn. It would always be Zayn.

When Niall spoke, his voice was ragged from controlling his emotions, and it was quiet and it was rough, but Zayn understood completely. “Only if you promise we forget together.”

 

When Niall awoke Saturday morning, his phone had a new message, which was odd seeming the only person he’d ever text was his brother, and there was no way he’d be awake at ten am. But, upon opening the message, he knew straight away it had been Zayn sending the message.

_Good morning :)_

Niall’s stomach fluttered as he texted back.  _Back at yah :D_

A moment later, his phone vibrated, alerting him of Zayn’s reply.  _Guess where I am right now._

Niall paused, thinking of places Zayn could be. The dairy popped into his mind, as did the park, and Niall blushed at the memory of the kiss. Then he thought about how romantic it would be if he was outside his house, but then he slapped himself mentally.  _Hmm, I don’t know. Where?_

_Elegant Eleanor’s._

Niall snorted.  _The beauty salon?_

_Ugh. Yes._

Niall laughed into his palm,  _my mum gets her hair done there. Why are you there?!_

_Same reason as your mum._

Niall cocked his eyebrow. Why would Zayn be getting his hair done? Then he remembered. The dance was tonight, and there was no doubt he would be getting his hair amazingly textured for his beautiful blonde partner whom Niall wouldn’t know from some random other school in the vicinity. Niall felt a pang of jealously, but didn’t show it in his replies.  _Get a perm._

When Niall’s phone didn’t buzz, his heart sank, so he chucked it on his bed and jumped into the shower. He thought about what he would do to pass the time, but then he realised he’d probably watch YouTube videos or crappy romantic movies of television.

 

By seven PM, his parents were out, and he was lazily eating pizza straight from the box wearing his favourite sweats and snapback. Zayn hadn’t replied, and he wouldn’t for a long while yet due to the fact  _he was at the dance._ He tried not to feel jealous, but that was nearly impossible when he was probably grinding against some stick-thin girl with big breasts and her hands feeling all his junk that he was yet to explore.

 

But when Niall lay awake in his bed in the early hours of the morning, his phone buzzed, and the text was only two simple words, but put together they created a short sentence that caused Niall’s heart to flutter.

_Missed you._


	10. Miracle Mile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idek man

It had been a month since the school dance, and despite their attraction to each other, Niall and Zayn had neither ‘come out’  _nor_ asked either lover out officially. They, although they shared late-night steamy kisses on Zayn’s couch, never labelled themselves as a couple or as ‘dating’ – as they weren’t sure what that meant to them yet, and they didn’t know where this bond and  _thing_ between them was headed, or if it was suddenly going to stop and they’d hate each other again. Harry and Louis were the same in a way. To the student body they were good friends, but they knew nothing else, and they sure as hell didn’t know that they crossing boundaries usual ‘good friends’ didn’t cross. Niall knew Louis wasn’t a virgin, but it still came as a shock to him when the Doncaster lad would rave on about  _it._

It was a Friday afternoon, and Niall was lounging on his couch while his mum spoke animatedly on the phone to Trisha. Niall knew Zayn would be in a similar position, so when his phone buzzed and announced a new message fromthe lad himself.

_More parental bonding time – planned._

Niall smirked at the phone screen before tapping back a reply.  _Where to this time?_

_Charlie’s – that new place with the weird peanut sauce_

_When?_

_Tomorrow night. Joy._ Before he could reply, there was another buzz.  _We’ll hang? We can order Chinese and watch bad rom-com movies and pretend we hate them but we both know we don’t._ The blonde boy’s cheeks turned red, but he replied with a smiley face, saying he’ll get dropped off with his parents. Later that night, when he was lying in bed, his phone buzzed again.

_Love you. Sleep well. X_

It was the first time Zayn had ever said that, and Niall’s heart dropped, but then surged back to his brain where he lost all track of his coherent thoughts. He tapped his reply immediately, hands shaking, breath ragged, and smile wide and contagious.

_Love you too. Xx_

 

 

It was cold. There was snow on the ground and the wind was icy, and Niall shivered in his jacket as he stepped in the house after his parents. The Malik’s house was warm, too warm even, because after a moment Niall had to remove his jacket and sling it over his arm. His hair felt damp and he knew there was snow in it, but he didn’t dare shake it to rid of it, as he’d leave wet marks on the carpet.

Zayn hadn’t come down to greet the family, so he must have been listening to music loudly or was asleep and dead to the world. But when he heard a yell, followed but a loud and defined ‘ _fuck!’_ he knew differently. Zayn only ever swore around his family, or in his family home, when he was either alone or in pain. Right now, it was the latter option. His parents frowned, looking embarrassed as they muttered an apology for their sons outrageous language, and started talking about  _Niall_ would  _never_ swear – he didn’t know or need such words!

There was a thumping of loud angry footsteps, and a moment later the kitchen door slammed open, creaking against its brackets, and Zayn stormed in, eyes red fury and muttering unmentionable words under his breath. But Niall wasn’t paying attention to the way he fumbled through a drawer by the cleaning cupboard; he was focused on his back that was bare and slightly damp, and the towel around his waist was hanging lower than what’s acceptable around guests. But Zayn seemed completely oblivious to their presence, and this was proved when – after Yaser coughed, and told him to say hello – he froze, and he turned, eyes wide and humiliated.

His eyes landed on his not-really-boyfriend who was muffling his laugh in his palm, and then to his parents who were looking at him almost uncomfortably, but smiling nonetheless. Trisha looked awkward, unsure of what to say.

“Oh. Um. Hello…” He muttered while eyes averted to his feet, and fiddling with the hem of his towel. Niall choked on his laughter, bellowing it out between his lips, unable to contain it anymore. Zayn just glared back, but smirked, shaking his head before leaving. Niall tagged along, clutching his stomach in search of oxygen he desperately needed.

 

They were on his Couch, arms intertwined as they watched the final twenty minutes of _He's Just Not That Into You_ _._ Niall had noticed the way Zayn always ran his hands through his hair; fingers locking through the brownish blonde, and tugging gently before moving on to a new spot. He also noticed how Zayn had ticklish ribs, and when his arm was wrapped around his waist, he’d lightly run his hands over them, and the dark haired boy would squirm before letting out a high-pitched squeal.

There were many things Niall knew about Zayn, and vice versa, so when he leaned forward and connected their lips together, he was okay with that.


	11. Another Wave From You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a mature chapter i guess idek but all i know is someone wrote this for me cause i dont write smut and her name is on the tip of my tongue i just cant remember i hate this feeling if i remember i'll add it later enjoy ok idek its nearly finished this short novel thing ok

After only a short moment, Zayn pulled his lips from Niall’s, but just let his forehead rest against his, just listening to the sound of their breathing. Brown eyes looked deep into ocean blue ones and white cheeks red from embarrassment. “You’re so beautiful,” the raven-haired boy whispered against the others lips, kissing the corner of his lips tenderly.

Niall ducked his chin, “’m not.”

Zayn scoffed, pressing his lips firmly against his once again. Zayn’s lips were hard and firm and  _so sure_ of what he was doing, and they moved lazily against Niall’s. Niall kissed back the best he could, but his hands shook in his lap, and he wasn’t certain about what to do and how to do it. So he tried to pay no attention to his numbing thoughts, and thought of his technique instead. But soon languid turned vigorous.

Zayn was standing up off the couch, lips still attached to Niall’s as he dragged the smaller boy off the worn-down material, and over to the other side of the room. Their lips separated as Niall slid back on the bed, but his hands soon met strands of silky hair, and their lips were pressed together once more. Zayn was above Niall on the bed, but he held his weight as their lips moved roughly with each other. Despite his previous lack of confidence, Niall’s mind was swirling with inappropriate thoughts of the dark-haired boy, and his lips left the elders. Trailing down his neck, he left soft kissed along the smooth skin, but not for long, as Zayn’s hands grasped at his wrists and dragged their lips back together.

As they kissed, they explored. Niall’s hands slid down Zayn’s back nervously, and with delicate fingers brushing over the grey material he felt his muscles ripple with every movement. While Niall’s  hands were careful, Zayn’s were rough – but not in a way that made him uncomfortable, a way that made him want to ravish the moment further and not ruin it with his tiny whines and breathless pants.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he tugged Niall’s shirt off and over his head, exposing the ivory flesh underneath. Niall’s cheeks flushed red, and he bit his lip, embarrassed and self-conscious all at once. This was the first time Zayn would see him shirtless – other than gym, but that didn’t count as he was sure Zayn didn’t perv on him as he changed. The older boys dark fingers brushed over his chest and Niall watched with awe at the difference. Delicate and gentle contrasted with dark and rough, but never had there been such a perfect combination, and Niall grinned as he collided their lips together again.

Niall grew impatient with the way he was shirtless and Zayn was not, so he tugged on the hem of his shirt, grunting at the inconvenience and annoyance of the material. Zayn smirked, pulling their lips a part as he slid his shirt off, revealing his well-toned and tattooed chest, which Niall immediately grew a likely towards. His pale hands dragged over his collarbones, tracing the tattoos softly with his fingertips, before sliding them southerly, and over his hard nipples and down to the hem of his track pants. He stopped there, removed his hands completely off his flesh and the returned them back to the boys neck.

Zayn dropped his weight, making it more comfortable on his elbows and laid his body flush against Niall’s. Both of their breathing was ragged, and Zayn rolled their hips together, earning a loud moan from the boy underneath. Zayn let his lips travel from his lips, down his neck, sucking a prominent bruise on the creamy skin, before letting his lips slide south. Niall sucked in a deep breath as lips pressed gentle kisses down his chest, over his nipples and down his stomach.  They were both panting and cheeks were red and skin was hot as Zayn fumbled with the buckle on Niall’s jeans. His brown eyes gazed up to his blue ones, as though asking for permission. Niall smiled, nodding, before Zayn smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the where the hair disappeared under the denim, eliciting a sigh.

He pulled the rest of the material off his legs, throwing them carelessly to the floor beside the bed. With one last gaze of permission, he tugged down his underwear, and his cock sprung free. A sigh escaped both men’s lips – Niall with relief that he was free from the tightness of his denim and underwear, and Zayn because it was the first time he had been in this position, and suddenly feared he would do something wrong. Before he managed to  _do_ anything, Niall whined, catching his gaze. He motioned to his legs, and Zayn smirked, understanding, and he slipped out of his pants and underwear quickly. It was impossible to miss the way the embarrassment and self-consciousness dulled a little in the blue eyes now that he was not the only one fully undressed.

Zayn took Niall’s cock in his hand, and immediately earned an unbelievably loud and almost pornographic moan from the boy below. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled loud enough for him to hear, and he sighed. Pumping his fist, Niall gasped out, bucking his hips up into Zayn’s hand, searching for more movement and friction. Zayn watched Niall come to pieces below him, and seeing it happen made his own cock harden at the way the blonde boy moaned and whined underneath his touch.

Zayn knew Niall wouldn’t last long, he could tell by the way his whines became louder, and his moans cracking halfway through, and his knees shaking despite his laid-out position. He was close, and Zayn allowed the smugness to show through with a small smirk. He licked – long and wet – from the base to the tip, and he caught the way Niall’s back arched with pleasure. He flicked his tongue, and he watched Niall’s mouth hang slightly ajar. He kissed the sensitive skin before taking only an inch in, and soon fell into a simple – but pleasurable – rhythm. Niall’s eyes were clenched shut almost painfully tight, and his lips were quivering and cheeks flushed. Niall moaned louder than usual when he opened his eyes, and watched the boy between his legs’ head bob, and then take in his whole length. After a moment filled with heavy gasps and moans, his loudest moan slipped past his lips, signalling his end. Zayn pulled away, looking into Niall’s eyes before swallowing deliberately in his face, earning a small whine from the sweaty and overheated boy with heaving breathing.

“Fucking hell,” the Irish lad breathed as Zayn pressed a loving kiss to his forehead. Niall went to grab his lovers own cock, ready to return the favour, but he caught his wrist, and stopped him before he even managed to start.

“Don’t.” Was all he said, and Niall blushed, biting his lip again out of habit. He wasn’t expecting anything out of doing it. But when he heard a groan, and then a body rolling back on top of his, he knew it had done something to Zayn. He smiled at his lustful eyes, and their lips met in a rough kiss. Their tongues touched, and their lips moved and hands slid over each other’s bodies with a desperate need, and soon Niall found himself hard again, and when Niall gasped out  a breathless ‘ _I want…I want- need you in me’,_ Zayn lost all coherent thought.

He pulled away from the body underneath, before rolling onto his stomach so he could reach under the bed. He grasped at the bottle of lube, and snatched up a condom from his drawer, returning to his position on top of Niall’s warm body. Niall felt butterflies in his stomach at what was about to happen. He was scared. He wasn’t scared that he was going to regret it or that he wasn’t ready – he had been dreaming of this moment for years, there was no way he was turning back now – he was scared of doing something wrong and embarrassing himself. And he was scared Zayn would find him repulsive and kick him out and spread horrible rumours about him at school. He feared the outcome. But he told himself not to. Zayn wasn’t the same Zayn he was at school – where he was with him now, he was gentle and caring and the complete opposite of what he was at school. He liked this Zayn, and he wished he was always like this – at school especially. But he knew that was a lot to ask.

Niall knew what was coming when he heard the cap of the lube open and almost silent sound of it being squirted onto Zayn’s finger before being thrown to the side of the mattress. He swallowed nervously, but with desperate anticipation, he bent his knees and spread his legs. His breathing escalated when he felt a cold finger trace his hole, and he let out a whine when it slipped in the entire way.

“You okay?” he murmured softly, and Niall nodded in swift frantic jolts.

Zayn’s eyes had fallen impossibly dark – darker than usual, the brown now fully black. He added another finger, and then he began thrusting them back and forth and Niall was shaking and biting his lip to not let out the embarrassing noises he would make otherwise. A third finger was added, and Niall let out his loudest moan yet. Zayn stopped his gentle rhythm, and sped up his fingers, thrusting rougher and earning more pornographic moans and breathless curses. “Oh god, fuck, Zayn,” he gasped out, head thrown back against the pillows, breath rough and strangled. “I need,” he choked out, and Zayn made his fingers move quicker, and Niall made his eyes open so he could watch Zayn’s expression carefully.

Zayn growled as he let up and crashed their lips together hungrily, “what do you need?”

Niall tried to find his breath, but he couldn’t so when he spoke, it was barely a whisper. “I need you to, shit – fuck me, Zayn.”

Zayn grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to Niall’s red and swollen ones, “As you wish.” He slicked up his cock with the lube, and then lined himself up with his entrance. Zayn hesitated, eyes meeting blue ones, and the boy nodded, whining highly in the back of his throat. When he was sure Niall was ready, he pressed the head to his entrance, inching his way in carefully and letting Niall adjust to the feeling.

Zayn felt strange – a good strange. It was weird for him to realise that he was losing his virginity right now, but to someone who really mattered. But that wasn’t all. He was the first person to be doing this to Niall, too, and a part of him prayed that he would be the only one to also.

Zayn was snapped out of his trance, when Niall moaned, and wrapped his ankles around his waist, feeling _full_  and so, so  _good._  Zayn rocked back and forth, thrusting in an out, earning grunts and moans from Niall, only making him more turned on. They both moaned, high and in the back of their throats, and Niall was gripping his ass and squeezing, and too many thoughts were running through Zayn’s head at once, and he felt dizzy at the amazing feelings he was having. He was overwhelmed with thoughts he had never had before.

He managed to find his prostate each time, sighing whenever Niall would moan and grasp at the bed sheets below their sweating bodies. Their eyes were locked on each other, and neither of them was prepared to close them because they didn’t want to miss the love and adoration and lust in the other’s eyes. They had a steady rhythm, and Niall thought it was impossible to feel better than he did in that moment. But Zayn was always mysterious, and he always knew how to make things better and improve – so when his hand reached out to simultaneously stroke Niall’s cock in time with his thrusting, he let out a cry of pleasure, eyes now focused on the ceiling, and trying to control his outrageous breathing.

“Fuck, Niall, you feel so fucking good,” Zayn choked out, watching him through lidded eyes.

Niall’s head was spinning – it was too much. Too, too much. The way Zayn’s hand jacked him off, and the way he would hit his prostate with every powerful thrust, was too much for him, and he could feel his orgasm build at the bottom of his stomach. “Z-Zayn,” he choked out between a moan, and Zayn pressed a kiss to his hip, sucking a mark into the pale, bony skin there. There were too many pleasurable sensations happening at once, and Niall was no longer feeling sane as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes from the wonderful feelings.

“Niall,” Zayn moaned back, but it was strangled and breathless, and he climaxed – filling Niall up and stilling pumping his hand relentlessly. Niall let out one last moan before coming over Zayn’s still moving hand. He pulled out of Niall, kissing him tenderly on the lips, reaching behind him and grabbing the small packet of tissues beside his bed. He cleaned them up, and got off from Niall’s body, and lying on the bed beside him.

They calmed down their breathing before speaking, and soon, Niall slid down the bed, tucking his head under Zayn’s chin, pressing a delicate kiss to his collarbone before sighing. “Thank you,” Niall mumbled with cheeks turning red.

Zayn smiled, kissing his hair, “I love you Niall.”

Niall’s breath caught in his throat. His head was swimming with thoughts about the way it rolled of Zayn’s tongue, and grinned wildly before retracting his head from Zayn’s neck. Zayn watched him both surprised and curiously, but Niall just swooped forward and crashed their lips together.

“I love you too, Zayn.”


	12. Echoes Of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fights and overcoming fears i guess

The Morning before school, Niall’s hands were shaking. He was nervous – beyond nervous. He was so far gone past nervous that he was almost used to the feeling, when he really, really didn’t want to be. However, the feeling was there, and there was no way he was going to be able to get rid of it. He knew what had happened, he remembers it clearly and not once does he regret it…but he regrets it at the same time, too. Not because of what it was or who it was with – but because of the conditions. Because of Zayn’s reputation, he couldn’t come out to the student body and most definitely not with him, so their relationship would most likely stay secreted until they graduated. That was fine, Niall understood, he just…he just didn’t know how to be okay with that. But he would be, in time.

Monday’s were always the worst day of the week. Mainly because it’s straight after the weekend, but also because it means there’s still 4 more days of schooling after this one. Niall detested school, much like other students, but since getting with Zayn, he noticed how much easier it was becoming. He wouldn’t get bullied by him anymore, and if he did, it was an evidently forced insult about his jeans (which were secretly Zayn’s) and about how his hair was too blonde (even though Zayn had re-dyed it). His friends stopped too. Liam didn’t say a word; he was far too caught up with exams and his girlfriend to worry about his whereabouts and to care about him at all – let alone bullying him.

Louis and Harry were a different story.

Louis and Niall were as close as ever, and he knew that Louis and Harry would last the remaining months of school, and possibly beyond that too and into university and college. They were cute, there was no doubting that, but Louis could see the longing in his eyes to  _come out_  to the school. If Louis could have any wish, it would be that they didn’t have to hide anymore. But he respected why they couldn’t, just like Niall did with his and Zayn’s relationship, but, again just like Niall, he didn’t know how to be okay with it.

Niall walked down the hall, head ducked, eyes hooded, as he watched the dirty lino underneath his feet. He tried to ignore the shoves, tried not to stumble, but it was nearly impossible when they were much stronger than he was, and they were swearing. He wasn’t expecting this. He never thought this would happen. He had thought that after Zayn and his crew had stopped the vicious bullying, so would everyone else, but it appears he was wrong. Very, very wrong. Before him stood members of the swim team, the hockey team, and ever the lacrosse team. It was odd seeing so many tall, sport players cramped into the small corridor, with him in the very middle of the makeshift circle. People were gathering behind the bullies, and Niall’s head craned over the crowds, searching for a familiar face willing to help him. But he saw none. He was alone.

When the blows began, he shut his eyes. He had no way of fighting back, not when there were over 30 people. If he knocked out one, there’d be another there ready to fight back. It was pointless. Niall was pointless. They mostly aimed for his stomach, obviously knowing that a blow to the face would be obvious to teachers and parents, and it was clear they didn’t want to be caught out. But after a while, they seemed to get bored with the way his stomach would curl under their touch, and how he’d flinch forward and grasp at the quickly bruising skin – so they began the punches then, some to the face and cheeks, but many to the neck and chest. It hurt. He was hurting. It wasn’t excruciating, but it was close to it.

He could taste blood, and he could feel a cool sensation wash over his head, and soon his eyes felt heavy and abused. Even if he had wanted to try, his eyes wouldn’t reopen.  Not for a while. He let them punch him, he let them hurt him. He let them let him  _bleed._

He was about to begging when he felt a hand around his wrist – a place they never usually grab. The grasp however was gentle, but strong nonetheless, and protecting. He heard knuckles against skin, and he couldn’t work out where they’d punched him – but then he realised it wasn’t him they had punched. He was drowsy, he just wanted to sleep, but he managed to force his eyes open. There were people everywhere – students and sport players around the outer circle, mouths ajar and eyes wide. Niall wasn’t sure why, but he was positive it was because of the four boys who had joined Niall, fighting the bullies back.

Liam was there – using his boxing skills. Both hands were in use, flying back and forth as he hit as many people as he could. However, there were only four of them and nearly fifty of the others, so as they got hit back, their throws were weakening. Harry was strong. Everyone saw that by the way his biceps moved and clenched, and how his back muscles moved when he wore tight shirts some days. But you could see how he was struggling now, one eye black and grunting whenever he missed: he was frustrated, and it was clearly there. Louis was there too, punching, but more slapping was involved. Niall wanted to giggle at how  _gay_ he looked, but he couldn’t bring himself too. Both because of the pain and because he was helping him when it was most needed. He was helping Harry, and you could see the look of fear in Harry’s eyes whenever Louis was hit.

Zayn’s fist was already bruised, he could clearly see, but not once did he let Niall’s wrist go. He caught his eyes, and furious brown met weakened blue, and the darkness muted a little before flaring back up, and a fist flew past his face, and into Brad – a hockey player that Niall had never really talked to before. He looked back at Zayn, hoping he’d find reassurance there, but he just found the side of his head where he was back fighting the other boys. Blood was dripping out of his nose, and his eyes were lidded and swollen, but he fought on –  _like the protective boyfriend he was,_ Niall thought dully to himself.

Niall could do nothing but stand there, half limp under Zayn’s touch, and watch on dizzily and half unconscious. He wasn’t interested in joining in, only because he was weak and would be no help whatsoever, but when Christopher – a wrestler  _and_ boxer – slammed his fist into Zayn’s face with an unbelievably loud crack, he knew he couldn’t stand back. Zayn fell to the floor, his hand slipping from his wrist as he grasped at his now-broken nose.

Niall straightened his legs, careful not to fall over with the tearing pain across his abdomen, and glared into Christopher’s eyes. He glared back, nose flaring. Niall clenched his fists, and it was impossible to miss the way Zayn muttered a warning for him not to. But he didn’t listen. Using the last remaining strength he had, Niall brought his fist into collision with Christopher’s.

Christopher didn’t move for a second, and Niall swore aloud at the pain surfacing on his fist. He looked down at it, blood on the knuckles and swelling apparent. He looked back up at Christopher, blood now oozing out of his nose at a speedily pace, and the fighting around him had stopped. Everyone, including Zayn, stared at Niall with shock-plastered eyes as Christopher fell to the floor in agony. Not once had they ever seen the blonde nobody fight back.


	13. Conclusion: Butterfly Culture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aw this is the end ok

A week went by, and even though Niall broke Christopher’s nose, he didn’t get in any major trouble with the school as it was ‘self-defence’. People looked at him differently now. Not in a bad a way, and not because of what he had done, but because Zayn Malik and Harry Styles and Liam Payne had stood up for him, when they used to be the ones putting him in that position. No one understood it, they didn’t need to though, whenever someone questioned him about it he’d shrug saying he didn’t really know himself.

His whole schooling life he had prayed for attention, and now that he had it, he wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted. But the way Zayn smiled at him in the corridors when no one was looking, and the way he’d hold his hand and guide him to his bed where he’d hum cute love songs and recite his favourite poems, and the way he’d cook him food he’s never tried from the recipe book he bought – made it all worthwhile.

 

It was an ordinary day in the lunch room. Louis wasn’t here yet, but it was Monday, and Monday is Harry’s day with him, so Niall knew today he’d be eating alone. But, when he heard the rowdy group of boys enter the lunch room, and after they’d grabbed their lunch, they stopped at his table. “Can we sit here?” Liam asked hesitantly.

The whole lunch room was quiet, but they didn’t seem to care. Niall nodded wordlessly, unsure if he’d be able to find his voice with the sudden attention the entire lunch room was giving him. Zayn chose the spot beside him, and he was thankful, but he knew none of the other boys would take it – as it was fairly obvious they knew about their relationship.

Zayn was fidgeting, and his fork swirled around his food on his plate in front of him. Something was on his mind, it was obvious, and he wasn’t telling Niall. Niall decided not to question it, because the way the other boys shook their heads discretely at him when they noticed his questioning eye, told him otherwise. The rest of the day was dull, and all Niall could think about was  _what was wrong with Zayn?_

School was…strange the next day. People stopped and stared at him; eyes were wide and mouth agape. Niall’s eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced down to make sure he had remembered shoes or pants. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly odd or new about his appearance, so with a shrug he carried on to his first class.

It was the last day, and there was nothing –  _nothing ­–_ that could deflate Niall’s overjoyed expression that he wouldn’t have to return for a long while to finish his senior year. By lunchtime, Niall hadn’t seen Zayn at all, so when he entered the canteen, it was a shock to see him sitting alone at  _Niall’s_ table of all places.

Niall sat his tray beside him, and Zayn’s head shot up. “Uh, hey,” The blonde said, eyes curious as they studied Zayn’s toothy smile and happy eyes – but there was something in there, almost pleading.

Everyone in the lunchroom was clutching a red hardcover book, the schools name plastered in gold writing on the front, on top of a black scroll with the school anthem lyrics below. He caught Zayn’s gaze of the book Harry was clutching between his hands as he strode in, goofy smile with Louis attached to his side.

Before they reached the table, Liam sped into the room, his own yearbook in his hands as he ran to the table, clearly forgetting about his girlfriend who was laughing as she walked at a fast pace to the table.

When the three of them reached the table, Zayn chuckled, but Niall threw his hands up in the air. “What the  _fuck_ is going on today?!”

Harry snorted, and Louis just shook his head. “Where’s your yearbook?” Niall nodded to his bag which was thrown messily on the floor. “Have you looked at it yet?”

Niall shrugged, “no.”

Louis rolled his eyes, throwing his own yearbook his way. He managed to grab it before it collided with his face, but he held the book awkwardly, unsure as to what he was wanting with it. “Middle page, top left corner.”

Niall narrowed his eyes, curious, as he flicked open the book at the right page. When his eyes landed on the photo, and the label, he dropped the book with a loud, strangled gasp. His hands flew up to cover his mouth, and he looked at Zayn, bewildered before slamming his lips to his. And he was okay with that. He was okay with being the gay who used to be friendless and bullied, and he was okay with the way Zayn kissed back tenderly, and he was okay with the way people around his cheered, especially Louis – he was okay with everything that had ever happened and will happen.  

Because there, in the top right hand corner of the yearbook, was a photo of Zayn and Niall, cheeks bruised and noses bleeding from the fight, with the label beneath it ‘ _cutest couple’._

And Niall…he was okay with that.


	14. Soundtrack/Playlist

**Chapter Title Playlist**

  1. Another Day by The Album Leaf, On! Air! Library!
  2. 101 by Albert Hammond Jr
  3. My Body Is A Cage by Arcade Fire
  4. Heart On Fire by Jonathan Clay
  5. I Can Lift A Car by WALK THE MOON
  6. Little Drop Of Poison by Tom Waits
  7. Heal by Tom Odell
  8. Ready When You Get Here by Bobby Andonov
  9. Can't Make You Love Me by Bon Iver
  10. Miracle Mile by Cold War Kids
  11. Another Wave From You by M83
  12. Echoes Of Silence by The Weeknd
  13. Butterfly Culture by Benjamin Francis Leftwich



 

**While-Writing Playlist**

  1. Mansard Roof by Vampire Weekend
  2. Sun by Two Door Cinema Club
  3. Pumped Up Kicks by Foster The People
  4. Case Closed by Little Mix
  5. Splendor by M83
  6. Hurricane by Augustana
  7. Bel Air by Lana Del Rey
  8. Cannonball by Damien Rice
  9. Skinny Love by Bon Iver
  10. Waltz by Elliot Smith



**Author's Note:**

> Even though this is of limited quality, please let me know what you thought anyway.


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